Frosted Doughnuts
by Itorthedinosaur
Summary: Jack Frost, the 300 year old Spirit of Winter, makes his way through the modern world leaving a trail of ice and trouble. All he wanted was to continue and annoy the whole of Earth the way he saw fit. Definitely not get involved with a DJ who managed to catch herself on fire. (JackXOC, AU according to how I believe the characters would react.)
1. Chapter 1

Only a few steps inside, and he already had half a mind to walk right back out onto the chilled streets. The music was incredibly loud. Hot bodies drenched in sweat were jumping and moving like a living sea, seemingly unaware of their blown out eardrums. The rhythm of the beat had hypnotized it's audience into a half contained frenzy. Masses of people had swamped what he thought was the main dance floor. Looking up, he could see two other floors through the great atrium. Each balcony wrapped around the main floor, holding hordes of sloshing people. He chuckled under his breath, enjoying the feeling of the bass in his chest.

These places weren't his normal gig. Sure, he loved having fun, but he was busy as of lately. Lately, meaning the past ten years. It had been about three years since him and the gang got together, saving children and whatnot. And in between blizzards and snow days, he was subjected to more meetings than he could handle with North, he respected and even liked the guy, but business was not his expertise. As a Guardian now, he had to catch up on all the Guardian knowledge. The meetings consisted more of history lessons than actual planning, thank god. History was boring, but at least Jack knew his way around it a bit. He was, after all, over three hundred years old.

He let his mind wander back to the present. It wasn't completely dark in the club, though the strobe lights did more to confuse him than to light the way. Women and men were jumping and grinding against each other, reminding him of why he was here. He was here to cause trouble. The hot and humid air had more than enough water in it for a good blizzard in the place, and every person here had a good sheen of sweat to have fun with. He called the wind to lift him to the first balcony.

Upon landing, he noticed a few very good looking bodies of the opposite gender. He smirked and raised his shepherd's staff. In a flash, the girls jumped and scurried. He always had to make sure all the hot ones cooled down a bit. Gusting out a bit of deep laughter he jumped up onto the railing, splaying his toes to keep steady on the metal.

Getting more riled up by the minute, he tried to remember the last time he was in this specific club. It had been a while since he'd made it all the way down to Florida, but he figured it was about time these permanent vacationers got a good taste of winter. Jack had the perfect storm in mind.

Speakers surrounded him on all sides, blasting their intense cacophony. He was really enjoying the noise. The eighties had an amazing nightlife, but it couldn't hold a candle to the intense new techno all the kids were coming up with these days. The sound gave him an intense urge to dance and sweat with all the bodies on the floor. He would have gladly done just that, except for one tiny problem. He would just get phased through everyone. As if to prove his point, a very drunk man leaned into the railing and passed right through Jack. Luckily, Jack was in a good mood, and just froze the floor and sent him sliding into a group of dancers to his left. Nothing like a game of human bowling. All of the spilled booze and beer mud on the floor made for a pretty thick ice slide, and sent a few unsuspecting passersby on an unwarranted journey under the short skirts of girls. Jack wanted to make that journey, too, if only for the scenery.

Jack huffed, and an almost maniacal grin settled on his face. He pulled his hood up over his head. "Time to get down to business." He stated to no one in particular. He leapt from his perch into the air above the main dance floor. He vaguely noted where the DJ was set up, a man and a woman blasting out their rhythms. The guy was yelling into the mic to get everyone's hands in the air, while the chick was concentrating on the tunes with a set of headphones pressed against her ear. Jack frosted another ass while watching the DJs. The song finished and immediately the lights stopped.

Another man on the odd shaped platform stepped forward, mic pressed tight against his lips. _"C'mon y'all, let's step this shit up, 'cause we're here to have a fuckin' good time!"_ The crowd erupted into a deafening roar. Jack set himself down on the side of the platform and grinned even harder. "Good thing we're all on the same page." Almost immediately once the words had left Jack's lips, he caught an odd movement by the female DJ. She raised her left hand over the crowd. A simple beat started.

The male DJ continued messing with the huge table of synthesizers, and the beat slowly but methodically built up with deeper tones and a hypnotic harmony. The strobe lights blinked on and off with the beat, catching the audience in midair moments. A deep base started in the back of his lungs and suddenly Jack became entranced.

The woman played the song like a symphony, and she was the conductor. Her arm moved to the pace and intensity with the song, her lips mouthing the sounds the speakers made. The symbols on the track started up, and a small shower of sparks flew from her finger tips. Jack made a startled movement backwards, clearly not expecting this turn of events. In a million years, he never thought he'd have to save a DJ from catching on fire.

With a push of his feet against the electronics he was perched upon, he jumped off and planted his feet on the ground about a yard away from the burning DJ, to which she seemed completely unaware of the sparks coming from her. He reached out to grab a hold of her with his one hand. Successfully latching onto her shoulder, he swung her around, careful to not get whipped by her hair in the process.

She turned about, eyes half lidded from the booze he could smell everywhere and something else he couldn't quite get a read on. Everything slowed down. The music continued, close to the resolution, but very out in the distance. It sounded miles away. She opened her eyes fully, and met his questioning stare with a bright amber gaze.

The base dropped.

So did his stomach, for that matter.

They stared at each other for a few seconds, but that seemed like an eternity to Jack, who still wasn't used to meeting the gazes of fellow humans. A wicked grin crept onto her face. Eyes crinkled, she spoke to him in the quietest of whispers, and yet in this mess of base and noise, he heard her loud and clear. It was as if a thousand whispers and voices had joined together, some shouting and others singing. A humming found it's way around the corners of her speech.

"_You're just in time for the main event."_

Just as he wrinkled his brow in confusion, light poured from the ceiling. He threw his head back and looked up into the light. Slowly yet certainly, two huge latches were pulling apart from each other to open up the club to the crisp night sky. The waxing moon beamed down into the hot air from the gaping rectangle where the ceiling used to be. He stood in utter bewilderment for a moment, hand still firmly on the DJ's shoulder.

Everything that Jack had ever known about clubs and burning DJs got thrown out the window that night.

He felt strangely giddy, as if he'd had an enormous amount of sugar. The feeling made Jack realize that this must be what happens to all those small hyperactive children. His hand was tingling, and for a moment, he was incredibly confused. He followed his sense of limbs. Feet were on the ground, check. Right hand wound around his staff, check. Left hand holding onto the DJ's shoulder. Ah. That's somewhere to start off.

Eyes still somewhat plastered to Manny, who looked down upon them from the sky light, he angled his head towards the DJ. Her bright eyes were fixed to the opening, face filled with intensity and a shit-eating grin. Her body was still, right hand continuing to hold up the large black headphones to her ear. Jack would have laughed, had he not thought he was out of his mind. She looked as if she had planned the whole thing, and was now enjoying her success.

Jack couldn't tell much about her features, given the distracting strobe lights and all of the noise. He was crazy. It was official. There was no way someone from her age group could see him. Or even interact with him for that matter, it was preposterous. She looked to be, what, twenty-something? Twenty? Twenty five? Definitely around that range. Or she could have snuck in here with an amazing fake I.D. and an entourage. Then again, she _was_ a DJ, and she was doing her job in front of hundreds of listeners. It was plausible, but very unlikely, that she was the age of the kids who still believed in Santa Clause, the Tooth Fairy, even extremely less likely, still believed in him. Jack Frost. She seemed small, but nowhere near the height of a child.

It was odd. North had told him that the cutoff age for more than half of the believers was ten. At that point, the kids thought that they were too cool to believe in the Guardians, and began peer pressuring fellow students to drop the belief like a sack of potatoes. He had experienced it first hand through his previous life, and was now going through it with Jamie. He'd been the main reason that Jack hadn't kept up completely with all the blizzards down south. Jack could tell himself that the hold up was due to the Guardians and the immense cold he had to keep up with, but at the end of the day, he knew he was there to support Jamie. He'd been bullied just a wee bit, but even that was too much for Jack. He stayed in Pennsylvania, just reassuring Jamie and telling him what to do with the bullies. Jack taught him to throw a mean left hook. And then at the deploration of the Tooth fairy, who had a mean right hook herself, he told Jamie not to resort to violence, but notify a teacher or parent instead.

In a perfect situation, Jack hoped to keep Jamie believing for his whole life. Something not easily done. But, if his belief was hidden and protected right, Jack would have a friend and a kindred soul for longer than he would have ever believed he could attain.

So, how could this woman see Jack? Her belief must be very strong, considering her physical appearance. The curiosity was eating at him, and it was about time she took her attention away from Manny, and back to himself. Gently, as though not to startle her out of her satisfied reverie, he squeezed her shoulder.

Her eyes squinted at the moon, glossed over and large. She turned to look at the offending appendage on her shoulder. Jack lowered his head, bobbing slightly, to make himself seem less threatening. The last thing he wanted to do was scare her away and leave him without an answer to his questions.

She followed his hand, brows furrowed, to his arm. Then his chest. Raising her eyebrows, she looked up to his face.

The tingling in his hand increased ever so steadily. He took a moment to revel in the fact that another person of his physical age could interact with him. Face relaxed, he gave a genuine grin. She took a second. Realization bloomed across her face, returning the warm smile he had given her. The music continued to pound in the background, but the silence resumed between them. He had to say something now, right? That's how these greetings worked. He took a short intake of air.

A breathy "Hey" escaped his lips.

She blinked, as if she was surprised. "Hi."

For some reason, her voice sounded normal. The way a person's voice should sound, instead of that odd choir of spine tingling notes and hums. Her voice now seemed to fit her better. He realized he'd had her shoulder in his palm this entire time, and hesitatingly released her.

Almost immediately, the tingling stopped, and left his hand feeling partially numb. He brought his attention to his hand. His palm was still warm from the physical contact, another odd result of human interaction. His hand felt weird, like he had rubbed up against a balloon and acquired an undetermined amount of static electricity.

A tendril of static reached out from his pointer finger, touching his middle finger with a snap of noise. His fingers were mini Tesla Coils, with small stretches of static electricity grasping the air harmlessly.

That wasn't normal. He opened his mouth to let out a flurry of questions, but surprisingly, she beat him to it.

"Do you want to take a breather with me?" Her gaze promised answers, and a small companionship. His breath halted, trying to process the question with all the noise and sound disrupting his thoughts. The look on his face must have voiced his confusion, and she repeated the question again.

"I mean, do you want to get out of here? I know the back way out." She practically yelled at him.

"Yeah, sure!" He shouted, "Lead the way!"

She nodded her head, and took his arm in hers, the headphones left forgotten on the equipment. Grabbing the elbow of his still held out arm, she began to weave her way through the crowd. People were passing through Jack left and right, which made him overly uncomfortable. He was just about to call to the wind when he spotted the exit sign after more than just a few moments of struggle. He sighed in relief to himself.

Firmly pushing forward, she was able to grab the handle of the door and shove them both into the night alleyway. Jack was released from her grip, and took a moment to breath in the cool night air. He was too riled up, a moment of peace would do him good. The door shut behind them, separating them from the deafening noise of the club. The beat from the music came muffled to his ears. He opened his eyes, not quite remembering when he had closed them. Manny filtered through the space between the club and the tall building across from them. He let out a short hum.

Shuffling, then an acrid creaking came from behind him. He turned around to see the DJ sit upon the fire escape, arms stretched in front of her. She stretched one hand, then the other. She brought her arms above her head and moved her torso in a side to side motion. Her small black cropped t-shirt moved up with her arms, and Jack couldn't help but admire the view. Lines of light patterns danced across her torso and arms, coming to a halt at the base of her head, just under her jawline. They were all tattoos. Very intricate and methodical designs, completely in white, claimed most of her upper body. White became orange, then gradually a deep warm brown on her hands and finger tips. It looked like the frost he always conjured up, but more angled. In fact, if Jack looked closer, he could have sworn they were circuit layouts for some piece of complicated electronics. That would make sense, she was a techno DJ, after all.

She finished her cat stretch, and faced him again. He realized he had been staring, but at that point, he thought he deserved some answers. She motioned for him to come sit on the fire escape with her. Jack leisurely strode to the metal steps, minding to stay within a reasonable distance from this woman, though she was no one to fear. Just good manners, he supposed. Though he wondered why manners were important now. He backtracked, and just decided to get comfy, resting his feet on the railings and leaning against the opposing metal safety guard. The DJ shoved her hand in one of the pockets on her jeans, pulling out a small cardboard box of cigarettes. She flung the box at him. He caught it naturally, and gave it a once over.

Millions of questions floated through his head then, and he managed to find his voice while fiddling with the pack. Out of all the questions he could have asked, his brain seemed to pick one which really didn't matter to him at this time.

"Don't you have to help out the other DJ?"

The halfhearted question seemed to get her attention.

"Not really," She stuffed her hands into her jean pockets, "Martin only really needed my help in the beginning. Now he's got it all in the bag."

Jack noticed an almost non-existent accent creeping into her speech, though he couldn't correctly identify it. Tucking it into his brain for a later inspection, he resumed his train of thought.

"How often do you get this gig? You both must be pretty good to play here."

She gave him that same shit-eating grin, as if to say that _of course_ she was good enough to play here.

"Oh you know, we practice every now and then. In fact, this is the first time we've played here."

"So you and this Martin guy are a duo?" He asked, getting back into the rhythm of small talk.

"Actually, no." Jack pursed his lips. "It's just Martin."

She didn't seem uncomfortable at all, so Jack was about to pursue with another question when she interrupted again.

"So," She began, "let's cut to the chase." He raised his eyebrows. She was getting to the point faster than he expected. She leaned on her legs with her elbows on her knees. Her hand wedged under her chin, supporting her head. Jack looked into her intense stare, waiting for the bomb to explode. She took a breath.

"How can you see me?"


	2. Chapter 2

_**HI GUYS! I'm posting a second chapter right away because I already had it written out and edited. I honestly hope this story is enjoyable, because it really makes me happy to write a novel. In a way, this is just me fulfilling an aspect of myself which I expect to expand. It would be a plus for you, as the audience, to tell me how you think it's going, but that isn't a necessary factor. I won't stop writing if you don't tell me what's on your mind.**_

_**By the way, Finals are almost over at Tyler, so I will soon be able to upload multiple chapters per week. Give me two weeks, possibly? I will still upload one per week, or more if I get excited!**_

He sat on the metal steps, impervious to their coolness on his limbs. Brows furrowed intently. Completely focussed and unmoving. He nodded slightly, hoping the movement would help him understand.

"What." he said while simultaneously turning his gaze to hers. It wasn't a question, more like a statement to acknowledge that he'd heard her. This was not the question he was prepared to give.

Her eyes stayed glued to him, gleaming with their intensity.

"I don't show myself to anyone I don't want to." she explained, "Therefore, someone put you up to this, and I want to know who."

Jack continued to nodding, face filled with bewilderment and disbelief. "What the hell are you talking about? Of _course_ I can see you."

She jerked forward, setting off a series of high pitched squeaks from the fire escape. "Aha!" she exclaimed, her face now pointed to the night sky.

"I knew it! It must be a part of Sandy's plan, I haven't visited him in a while." she rambled to herself, "But why would he send a human to me? Knowing his sense of style he would have sent a sand monkey, or even something more interesting than just a plain mortal..." she trailed off, hand clenched and pressed to her chin, in thought.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, there!" Jack threw in, "Who are you calling a human? It absolutely can not be me, _Jack Frost_." he stood up, gesturing to himself.

She glanced at him momentarily, seemingly taking him in as a whole for the first time. She let out a barking laugh.

"Ha! As if I could fall for that trick so easily! You're wearing a hoodie and jeans. You're about as close to Jack Frost as I am to being the Easter Bunny!" Jack stood up in disbelief.

"Really?!" he motioned to his feet, "A guy wearing _no shoes_," he pointed to his head, "with _white hair_, oh! And lets not forget about this," he thrust his staff forwards right in front of her face, "A fucking _shephard's_ _staff_, which has the power to frost anything, all seem normal and human to you?!"

"Yeah," she answered lazily, "humans are weird, so it was something I just accepted. You dyed your hair," she leaned forward, "and you were so drunk out of your mind that you left your shoes somewhere outside where you found that stick." she pointed to his staff.

He stared at her incredulously. Lips pressed together, he swiftly took the pack of cigarettes he still had in his hoodie pocket. He tossed them in the air. While still on its journey to the moon, he raised his staff and froze it mid-flight. It came down harder and faster than before, coated in thick snow and ice.

He caught it before it had a chance to hit and crack on the ground, then held it out for the DJ. She looked at it warily, after having witnessed his performance. She glanced up at him as if to say there was _no_ way in hell she was going to touch it.

"C'mon," he shook the pack in front of her, "don't you want your cigarettes back?"

She huffed, and reached out her hand. She gingerly touched the frozen box. Pulling back immediately, she gasped at the cold. Jack smirked. Maybe now they were getting somewhere.

"Just take it, the only biting I do consists of 'nipping at your nose'." The cocky retort left his mouth, urging her to take the box and believe him already. She glared at him, lips pursed. Her hand swooped up the box in a fast motion. The glare rest upon him for a few more seconds, then she turned her attention to the box. Jack leaned his back on the guard rail, hand placed inside his pocket. He puffed his chest forward, pleased with his demonstration.

She fiddled with the frozen pack for a bit, turning it over and seeing for herself that, yes, it was frozen now. She turned her face back to Jack. Eyebrows scrunched, she looked to the box again. Then to Jack. Then to the box. Finally, she angled herself towards Jack.

"It's frozen."

He chuckled, "Good observation."

She squinted her eyes in slight irritation. "Just a minute ago it wasn't frozen, then you used your stick," she motioned to Jack's staff with her elbow, "and now it's frozen?" the question left hanging in the air.

"Exactly."

"You did this?"

He let out a breath of air, partially exasperated with these obvious questions. "I am, after all, the spirit of Winter."

"With your stick?"

"It's a _staff_, and _yes_ I froze it with my _staff_."

"It looks like a stick to me." Jack rolled his eyes, sighing.

"Look, that's not what I'm trying to prove right now."

She was quiet for a few beats, fingers turning the box over.

"You have white hair."

"Yes."

"And _no_ shoes, despite all the glass on the ground."

He motioned to the air around him. "No need. I travel by wind."

"And you can freeze things."

He didn't bother responding, realizing that she was bordering on a breakthrough. She mumbled something that Jack didn't hear.

"Speak a little louder, missy, I couldn't quite hear that."

She continued to stare at the ground. A whisper escaped her lips.

"You're Jack Frost."

He laughed aloud.

"Bingo!" He hopped up onto the railing, moving his feet in excitement.

She turned to look at him, eyes wide as saucers. They sparked and Jack couldn't help but think how closely she resembled an owl at this moment. Come to think of it, his perch on the railing made him resemble an owl also.

"Holy _shit_, you're Jack fucking _Frost_."

"I'm pretty sure my middle name would be 'trouble', but I'm flexible." He smirked nonchalantly. She raised her hands and put her fingers through her curly hair. Jack hadn't noticed before, but her hair was so curly and red that it looked like a huge burgundy puff of cloud around her upper body. A weird cloud of blood, put in generic terms. She pulled back the wine colored curls away from her face, in a smooth motion. Her mouth was ajar and her eyebrows were sky high.

She shook her head slowly. "This can't be happening."

Jack held out his hand, as if to stop that thought. "I know what you're thinking, but you're not crazy. I _am_ real."

A sound of objection escaped her lips. "If you knew me, you'd know that I really _am_ crazy." she said, voice riddled with disbelief, "And _of course_ you're real." Jack blinked. "I just didn't think you'd be _you_."

"Hold on, wait a second." Jack motioned for her to halt. "Ok, now, it's _my_ turn to ask you a few questions." he argued, thinking back to all the events that had transpired just before, "First, you were _on fire_ when you were DJ-ing." She made a motion as if she was about to speak, but Jack cut her off.

"Nope, _my _turn." he resumed, "Second," he held out his hand, "when I grabbed you to let you know that you were _on fire_, a bunch of electricity went into my hand making it all numb and tingly." he took his hand and made the number three with his fingers. "And third, you know the Sandman? Since when has a human your age still believed in Sandy?" She moved forward, brows furrowed again.

"But I'm not-"

"Lastly!" Jack interrupted again, "Lastly, you believe that _I'm_ real, but you didn't believe that I was actually _me_." He paused his rant for a moment. "_Please_ explain, because this is insanity."

She was quiet, waiting for Jack to interrupt her again. Jack almost felt guilty. But he didn't. His questions were finally going to be answered. "Oh, right, I almost forgot about the whole 'I don't show myself to anyone I don't want to' deal."

She bore a hole through his head with the glare she was giving him. "You done yet?" He pressed his lips tightly together in a half grimace, half smirk. "Yep, I think that just about covers it." She inhaled deeply.

"For starters," she began, "I'm not human. Well, technically I _was_, but then again, _Jack Frost_, you were, too." his name was said in emphasis, as if to say that he should know how these things worked.

She backtracked, and looked to the ground. "Holy hell. I knew you'd joined that Guardians group, but I didn't expect something so soon." Jack looked at her quizzically. She shook her head, and got back on track with the questions.

"On fire? You might have seen my power at work. You know, energy?" her hands motioned to him. "They should have told you about them." Jack wanted to ask her more questions that seemed to be exploding in his brain left and right, but for once, he kept his mouth shut, waiting for more answers. After that, _then_ he could freely ask more. Patience was hard, Jack didn't enjoy this.

"Tingling hand? You must've experienced some type of harmless electrical shock from me. Powers of energy, again." she huffed, like he was a small child she was explaining to. "And Sandy? Me and him go way back. We're old friends."

Her brows scrunched in intense thought. "I still don't understand how you can see me." Jack raised his brow. "I only show myself to the people I want to be able to see me. Which includes being invisible to spirits and the Guardians." she glanced at him, "You shouldn't be able to see me right now."

Jack couldn't be patient anymore. "Why would you want to be invisible?"

"Because, Jack, I'm the spirit of Inspiration. No one wants to think their ideas don't come from themselves."

Now it was Jack's turn for his eyes to become wide with disbelief. He'd never heard of a spirit of Inspiration before. In all his lessons with North, the man had only ever mentioned a few more spirits. There were a few that Jack could list off the top of his head; Mother Nature, Apollo, and Pele, the goddess of lava and heat. North told Jack to stay away from Pele, and everything in the world would remain peachy keen. He'd never seen any of these so-called spirits yet, though technically Apollo comes up every day. They were figures in his life that he didn't interact with, and there was no problem with that. All three of them were said to have major attitude problems, anyways, so Jack didn't take any offense to their lack of involvement. In fact, it made his life simpler and less complicated. North had told him that Bunny had bickered with Mother Nature about a hundred years before. Bunny had complained that it had rained on Easter for five years in a row, and told Mother Nature to 'Lay off a bit, will ya?'. So, naturally, it rained on Easter for a good fifty years. Jack wanted to stay out of that.

And now, here was this girl, a DJ/spirit, telling him she has the powers of 'energy' and that she brings 'inspiration'. Jack laughed breathily, not believing his luck that day. She shot him a questioning glance.

"Shouldn't the Guardians have told you all of this? If they wanted me that badly they would have prepared you better."

Jack was taken aback. "No, what? No, they didn't send me. The Guardians don't have anything to do with this."

"Yeah right, Sandy put you up to this."

"No!" Jack exclaimed, "It's just me. Literally, I came here by myself. You can go check around; North, Tooth, Sandy, Bunny, none of them know that I came here."

She narrowed her eyes at him. "Then why are you here?"

"I don't know," he pulled his hand through his hair, "I just felt like it, you know?"

"In Florida? One of the warmest states?"

"I just haven't been down here in a while." he continued, "This club," he pointed to the back entrance with his staff, "used to be a big hangout of mine, before the whole guardian thing." he laughed, "And it's been a while since these guys have gotten any snow. I figured I'd come and cause a bit of trouble and mayhem."

She was quiet for a bit, and Jack was somewhat thankful for the silence for once. The bass of the club could still be heard clearly, based upon the fact that they were sitting mere feet away from the back entrance. He could see small movements from her out of the corner of his eye. He turned and quietly watched her fiddle with the frozen box of cigarettes that were once again in her possession. She faced upwards towards Manny, catching rays of moonlight on her face. Jack didn't know how he kept missing details about her, maybe something about the ruckus and horrible lighting of the club. But now, with the moonlight glinting off of her form, Jack couldn't help but notice how ethereal she looked. Her features were angled, high cheek bones and a strong, square jaw. Her eyebrows were determined, giving her face a very intense feel. The faint light seemed to make her glow, like a bioluminescence of some sort. She didn't look just plain human, and he didn't know why he ever thought she was. There was no question now if she was a spirit or not. Jack made a note to himself to look more closely at all the spirits he knew to see if there was a connection with luminosity. Because this chick was positively glowing right now. The small amount of aura around her seemed to shimmer and flicker. It reminded Jack of the stars at night, or even the way an ember looks after the fire was gone. It was a very, very pale yellow, almost white.

She looked back down to the box and chuckled lowly. Her right hand hovered above the cigarettes. A soft white glow began to emanate from her palm, intensifying in brightness. After a second or two, small drops of water fell rhythmically from the box and onto the metal stairs. Jack could feel a warmth on his face radiating from her hand. This must be one of her powers, he mused. A sound barely made it to his ears, but once Jack focussed on it, he realized it was a very quiet humming, made up of notes he couldn't quite put his finger on. He noted with no small amount of wonder that the box was rid of the ice he had previously cast upon it.

"You got to show off, so I figured I would, too." she smirked up at him, "And I'm pretty sure that if you had actually opened the pack," her hand stopped glowing, and she motioned for Jack to take the box again, "you would have been entertained."

Jack took the cigarettes, wondering what in the hell she was talking about now. He glanced at her, then opened the flap of the now dry pack. He peered inside.

A deep genuine laugh escaped his throat. Inside the pack of cigarettes, were in fact cigarettes. But that wasn't all. The contents of the box included three cigarettes, four joints, and the rest of the space was filled with various sticks. Jack took out a stick and realized they were all sparklers.

He looked at her, "What the hell?"

She grinned a toothy smile at him, "They're for the people I work with. Sometimes they just need a breather." she reached out to the sparkler with her hand. Her fingers snapped, and a small spark lit the sparkler in his hand. "If they don't want a cigarette, I got a few joints." Jack watched the sparkler sputter to life. "If they don't smoke at all, there's a bunch of sparklers in there just for the fun of it."

Jack held the sparkler out in front of him, keeping the sparks away from their clothes. He didn't think anything would happen to either of them, but he did so out of habit. He watched the sparks fall onto the metal railings and concrete below them. This was the real deal. There was so much he wanted to know, now.

"Do they all see you?" he asked lowly, still mesmerized.

"Not all of them. But most of the time I let them see me if they need to." she answered, staring at the sparkler as well. "Small interactions can go a long way."

"What about that other DJ dude? Martin?" he motioned to the club with a nod of his head.

"You mean did I let him see me?"

"Yeah."

"I did once," she reminisced, "he had finally gotten out of his studio, and I met up with him at a diner." she chuckled, "I masqueraded as an old man, and made friendly conversation with him about how I beat up a gang of thugs."

He stared at her, one eyebrow raised. She met his gaze.

"Muses aren't always gorgeous babes, Jack."


	3. Chapter 3

_**Here's chapter 3! This chapter was odd to write, and I had to deal with a lot of introspective thinking about what happens when you feel a certain emotion. It was fun and gave me a lot of insight!**_

_**Finals are almost over, and I have my first critique today on my rings. I wanted to post this earlier in the week since I'll be busy going back home and celebrating Thanksgiving with my hillbilly family. **_

_**Any thoughts, comments, or suggestions? Leave me a message :)**_

_**DISCLAIMER: I don't own Rise of The Guardians or any characters within the movie or series. I only own the female protagonist who's name has not been revealed yet.**_

_**(I forgot a disclaimer in the other chapters whoops.)**_

He chuckled at her, hand waving the sparkler around a bit. So she could change forms, too. He hadn't quite seen that one coming. In his mind, he tried to picture her as an old man, monologuing about the hay days of his youth. He just kept coming up with a seriously wacked-out old fart with white hair and her angled face.

"So, you really are the spirit of inspiration." he stated.

"Yeah man," she held out her hands, palms up. The pack of goodies left forgotten on the metal stairs. "I'm as real as you are."

He looked at her, "How did you hear about me? Did Sandy tell you about Old Man Winter?" he smirked at his other name people had given him. It didn't bother him much. In fact, part of him thought it was a clever kind of prank. Almost as a comeback for all the pranks he'd played on them. Just a bit of teasing. Her face fell a bit, and he wrinkled his brows. She looked away from the sparkler and towards Manny.

Now, he'd only known her for a grand total of around fifteen minutes or so. He'd only seen her confident and immensely confused, he told himself, so he could be wrong about the assumption he was about to make. He thought she seemed nervous. It wasn't necessarily written all over her face, nonetheless there were small things he was beginning to pick up on. Things like abrupt movements she had been making ever since he had told her who he really was. The nervousness was in small gestures, almost completely unnoticeable. Jack could say that he was somewhat a master at reading gestures and facial expressions. They told him when his pranks were going to succeed or fail. Whether or not he was going to be punished by them, or congratulated.

"I'm, uh, pretty old." she stated halfheartedly, "My ability keeps me informed of all energy. It should be overwhelming, but somehow, I can manage it." he listened, understanding. He couldn't quite put into words how he could control the snow and winds, either. It was something that just came naturally. When he was brought back to 'life' by Manny, it was normal, and something he just _did_.

"I'm almost at my 700th birthday, older than the guardians, but not by much." Jack raised his eyebrows. This spirit was 400 years older than him. Damn. She looked back at him halfly smirking, and he thought she had read his mind for a moment. "Yeah, I'm an old geezer." she chuckled. "About 300 years ago, I met a boy with an incredible imagination." She smiled, eyes glazed over with the memory. "He was a trickster. I always helped him come up with the best pranks, and got the kids in the village to have a little fun in the process."

Jack thought this sounded familiar. He gave his full attention to her, ignoring the diminishing sparkler. She paused and glanced at him. A pained expression flitted through her gaze. She quickly looked at her hands and cleared her throat.

"He had the biggest heart. And the potential to change the people around him for the better. It was always an amazing experience prowling around with him, watching him come up with the best schemes and plans." she was growing increasingly quiet as the story went on. Jack found himself holding his breath, an invisible hand squeezing his chest.

"Then, one day," she mumbled, brows furrowed, "I wanted his sister to have fun, too." Jack's heart dropped. "I gave her the idea to learn to ice skate with him."

He never thought he'd experience this feeling again. The feeling of the ground giving way beneath him, letting him fall into an icy pool of water. His mind couldn't quite grasp this new concept. He didn't know what to say. He didn't know what to do. She had given his sister the idea to ice skate. She had made his own sister want to ice skate on that fateful day. The day that he had died.

She moved closer towards Jack, but he didn't trust himself to look at her at that moment.

"Jack." she mumbled, the hums and notes creeping back into her voice.

Jack didn't say a word, he didn't dare move. His breath came out in a rush. Oh _god_ she'd been the one to cause it?All the fear, the dark, the numbing cold he experienced when he died. Loneliness and the painful experience of not knowing what had happened or how he had become Jack Frost. Going through that whole process multiplied tenfold when he had stumbled across his memories with the aid of the Guardians. His family, lost and gone from the Earth forever, and he had never been able to say goodbye. Even a few years after the battle with Pitch Black, he was still reluctant to come to terms with the trauma he had faced. On the few occasions that Jack had needed sleep, he awoke tossing and turning about with nightmares. Jack knew that Pitch had no hand in the terrors that plagued him. They were filled with desperate longing for a life he would never have, for people he never got a chance to grow old with. The desperation in trying to save his little sister. His baby sister, that he had never been able to see grow up into an amazing young woman. That he'd never been able to playfully tease again. He tried to get rid of his anxiety with tricks and Jamie, but it still crawled into the back of his mind.

Not a single day had passed when he was able to forget about the trench thrown open by his new memories. Jack wished it would go away. He wanted to continue laughing with this new spirit he had discovered. He wanted to forget this night had ever happened. But there she sat, guilty of the deed that had caused him more grief than any person should have ever experienced. He didn't wish this existence upon anyone.

In that moment, he felt his age. All 300 years of anguish fell upon him like an avalanche. He braced himself, feeling suddenly heavy with mourning.

He looked at her, his face filled with hurt and disbelief. Her eyes were wide and pleading, moisture collecting around the rims of her lower eyelids.

"I'm so sorry." her voice more notes and hums than her actual speech. "I tried to help," he furrowed his eyebrows even more, her form wavering before his eyes, "I never meant for it to happen."

"You did this?" the deadpan question left his mouth, and her eyes squinted solemnly. She turned around without noise, pain in her eyes. Her body seemed to float upwards, hovering and glimmering. Jack thought he should feel pity for her own misery, but he didn't have the heart at the moment.

"_I'm sorry, Jack._" she was leaving, he wanted more answers. He threw down the finished sparkler and grabbed at her with his hand. His fingers phased right through her arm, and he snapped his head up at her in surprise.

"_I felt you die!" _she exclaimed in her inhuman voice."_I knew the moment when your life energy began to disperse into the world around you, and I couldn't do a goddamn thing about it!"_ she flickered, her body appearing and disappearing at odd intervals.

"Wait! Just wait!" he yelled at her, wanting to know more, but also wanting to justify this newfound blame. She said nothing for a moment, and stared into his icy blue eyes. An eternity of regret and self-disappointment shown through her large eyes, bright with energy and unspilled tears. Her lips were tightly pressed together in the strain of keeping herself together. This turn of events left him staggering and light headed. She never opened her mouth, but her words rang through the air as a spine chilling choir.

_You should probably stay away from me._

And with that, she was gone. Disappeared in a flash of light. She left no trail of sand, like Sandy would have. There were no holes in the ground, like the way Bunny travelled. No frost left in her wake, like Jack. No sleigh marks. No trail of tiny fairies left flittering. She was just, plain gone.

Jack _wanted_ to stay away from her. In fact, Jack wanted to get as far away from here as possible. Anything that reminded him of the transpired events was unwelcome in his eyes. He wanted to be alone, away from this damn club, and all the fucking noise that crowded his head. Most of the noise was from his own mind, replaying the events that had taken a turn for the worse. The day Jack died. The day he realized he couldn't have any human contact. The Guardians' disappointment in him. When his staff had been broken, and he'd been left powerless.

He glared at his staff thoughtfully. The texture of the bark was a slight escape from his mind. Swirls and rough patterns gently guided his eye around the old wood, familiar with his longtime companion. Within this harmless branch lay the source of his affinities. Without it, he was nothing. Just a ghost left to scavenge the Earth. Even now, he could feel the soothing flow of power cycling back and forth from his staff to him. His right hand was clasped a few inches from the middle of the length of branch. He scrunched his face slightly. His left hand came to tenderly smooth the middle, where Pitch had effortlessly snapped it in two. There were plenty of moments where he would catch himself subconsciously tapping that part of the staff, as if to check and see if it was still sturdy and whole.

He wrapped his hand around it.

She didn't deserve an escape from this. In some sick way, Jack wanted her to know exactly what she had done wrong, and know how much it had actually hurt him. He wanted to make her feel more guilty, if possible. She couldn't just run from confrontation. Jack had been running from dealing with his problems, and it was about high time he just sucked it up and dealt with it. If he could bring the culprit down with him, that would be a small justice for what she had done. She'd ended his life, and he wanted to show her just what she had ended.

With a newfound surge of anger and determination, he quickly wracked his brain for ways to catch up to her. As he had noted before, there was no trail to follow, and no destination that he had been made aware of. Would North and his snow globes help? Maybe, but Jack didn't want to get the jolly man involved. In fact, Jack didn't want anyone else involved. This was between him and the culprit only. His personal life needed to stay just that. Personal.

Trying an alternative way of thinking, Jack tried to figure how he normally got from place to place. Wind was his normal mode of transportation.

An idea came to mind. Normally, when he wanted to get somewhere far by wind, he called out the place he wanted to go. Would that work for people he wanted to get to? Jack didn't know, he'd never really tried it before. He took in a large breath of air, stepping forward and releasing his left hand from the staff. He looked up into the star-studded sky.

"Wind, take me to her!" he conjured up a picture of the red haired DJ in his mind, momentarily remembering that she had not given him her name yet. Once Jack was through with giving her a piece of his mind, he had no doubt that he would never have a reason to know her name again.

The air writhed around him like a great snake, pulling him up into the heavens with tremendous force. He shot upwards, the wind guiding him higher and higher. The sounds of the club were all but eliminated by the rush of the currents, roaring like a freight train. He was comforted by the action which had become a commonplace activity. Lulled into the natural peace he normally found in himself at such great heights, he watched the ground shrink and move below him. The city gave way to beachfront, then to the ever boundless stretch of ocean. So she had hopped the pond, he thought disinterestedly.

Jack's anger still seethed beneath his supposedly calm exterior. He took this time to regroup and recollect himself. He had lost it for a minute or so. Jack figured he was still in the process of 'losing it', and for the moment it was the calm before the storm. He would come right up front and demand that she listened to what he had to say to her. Their conversation beforehand had quickly turned into a give and take encounter. Question then answer, the system had repeated. It was too orderly for Jack.

Living by the rules of common social interaction was something that Jack had tried to do for a bit. That was, until she admitted to being one of the main causes of his own death. In his eyes, that was an invitation to do what he pleased.

He hated being the only one without the needed information. For three hundred years, Jack had lived with no memory, and had been none the wiser to his loss. When Tooth had told him that all of the Guardians had previous lives _and_ that they remembered them, Jack had been furious. Part of the anger had been based off of the embarrassment that he hadn't known that bit of information at all. The other half of the anger was directed at the Guardians for keeping him out of the loop for as long as they did. Granted, it wasn't their fault that they didn't know about his lost life. If Jack himself had ever really bothered to get to know the rest of the immortal crew, then maybe he would have been better off. But wasn't that partly their fault also? Shouldn't they have made more of an effort to get to know Jack? Though the news had been heart shattering and painful, he now knew who he was. Therefore, armed with the knowledge of his past self, he came to the conclusion that he was a protector. He was the Winter Spirit, Guardian of fun and untroubled times.

The only problem was that Jack himself _was_ troubled. There was no way that he would have come out of all that had happened to him completely unscathed. He didn't want to admit it, though. With 300 years under his belt, he figured he should have it all figured out. But with this new small bit of information, the perfect outward appearance that he had strived to keep all his immortal life began to unravel. The only problem was, Jack argued to himself, if his calm exterior had been torn apart so fast, maybe he wasn't so well put together.

He noted that he had flown overtop a patch of harmless stratus clouds, their bodies heavy with moisture, pressed flat against the wave tops. Eyes downcast and head bowed, he was loath to acknowledge that though she had given his sister the inspiration to learn to ice skate, this whole ordeal might not have been her fault.

Fate was a hard thing to control, and Jack knew from experience that no matter how much you wished or prayed for it to change, it would continue on its way to an indiscernible end. She had said something about trying to help him, and he wanted to know exactly what had transpired that fateful day.

Jack's normal style of moping about when he was depressed or angry had changed dramatically since joining the Guardians. He now had support. A group of loyal friends to help him cope and deal with unprecedented setbacks. He could have easily just flown to North and recounted his traumatic experience that night. Maybe that's what he should have done.

There was an aspect of himself that just couldn't go complain to North. Call it pride, or even stubbornness, but in his being, he just _knew_ that he had to confront this girl. Jack thought back on her mannerisms. Her attitude had basically done a 180 in a matter of minutes. She had been fun and refreshing, and it was genuine. Jack had never truly met another soul who could express themselves with such confidence. Except for himself, of course. She was comfortable to be around, and Jack knew that had the night transpired in a different way, they would have been friends. Jack grunted to himself. He was getting too soft these days. For all he knew, she could have caused the whole run-in on purpose. Somehow luring Jack to the club he hadn't visited in years into an unknown death trap.

He wanted to rule out that possibility completely, but you could never be too careful with unknown spirits.

The low clouds gave way to black ocean. Jack could make out small pinpricks of light reflected on the water, the liquid shadows of the stars above him. The winds had carried him to the Jet Stream, where Jack flew in between the fine lines of space and sky. Planes moved below him, carrying multitudes of unsuspecting passengers. From this elevation even those large carriers were just blinking specks.

Jack wanted to forget this night and just let himself be lulled into a daze by his surroundings. He would never be tired of the views his affinities allowed him to see. The moon was almost below the horizon, the time difference of this great expedition effecting the atmosphere around him. Manny had been an interesting companion tonight, and Jack was halfly sad to see him make his way to the rest of the globe. He didn't necessarily understand the Man In the Moon, but he acknowledged him.

Raising his left hand in a two finger solute, he wished Manny a safe trip and that he'd see him around town. Jack faced back towards the area of his destination. He squinted his eyes. A large mass started to show itself on the horizon line, the first point of Europe slipping it's way towards him. The land was covered in the shadow of night, with only stars for light. Jack pulled out a map of Europe in his brain and tried to determine where in the hell the wind was taking him. He descended closer to the ground to see if he could make out any landmarks that would help him sort out this dilemma. There was Portugal and Spain which stuck out the most in Europe, though the wind could have easily just bypassed those countries for Ireland and the United Kingdom farther north. He supposed he would just have to wait and see. Language would be the deciding factor here.

Continually flying farther and farther inland, Jack lost sight of the part of the country he had first spied. The ocean continued on his right side. He realized this wind must follow the coast line of the land. Beaches ribboned beneath him, Jack staying on the line where the water meets the land. The coast was made up of more beaches than cliffs, occasionally a bay would pass bellow. Docks were silent in the early morning, with only a few boats and ships coming into port.

The clouds were getting thicker, he looked up from studying the coastline. Large thunderheads rose above the mists and inter the upper atmospheres. Bursts of light and sound echoed frequently in the large anvil. He waited for the wind to guide him around the menacing stretch of sky, but his path wouldn't budge. Jack mentally and physically prepared himself to descend into the storm. There had to be a reason why the wind was sending him to the dead center of the thunderhead. The thunder grew deafening, and coupled with the blinding lightning, Jack couldn't help but be reminded of the club earlier that night.

She was here, he could feel it. Jack wondered to himself that he would not be surprised if she was the one causing this storm.

Wind that he didn't have the power to control pounded at him from all sides, drawing him ever closer to all the noise and action. He had been struck by lightning before, and he was in no rush to experience it again. He covered his head with his arms. If he should be struck, he would rather not get hit directly into his skull. Jack doubted he would die, but the feeling was nothing too pleasant.

He supposed he would find out if she had made the thunderhead, because he was about to be plunged into the dead center of the super cell, the largest cloud being tens of miles high.

Involuntarily, he held his breath, descending into the cacophony.


	4. Chapter 4

_**Commenting, critiquing, suggesting, and reviewing is encouraged!**_

_**Disclaimer: I don't own Rise of The Guardians**_

Rain pelted his body, the sections of his exposed limbs stinging with the impact of the hundreds of water particles. His face was fortunately saved from this onslaught of ice and water, covered by his arms. Unfortunately, his hands and feet weren't so lucky. The hurricane force winds drove the torrential downpour onto his unprotected flesh, causing Jack to hiss in pain.

He dropped unexpectedly in the air and he brought his arms out in a quick motion. Stabilizing himself, his hood couldn't stop the pellets from hitting him directly in the face. He inwardly groaned. Violent flashes of blinding light lit up the black cloud, forking unnervingly close to the area where Jack was located. Jack forgot about his face for the moment and desperately tried to shield his ears from the screaming thunder produced at such a close range. Only partially succeeding, bursts of radiant white, purple, and blue continued exploding around him. A cyclone of wind got hold of him again and forced his body downwards toward the ground. Tumbling in mid air, Jack continued clutching at his ears, eyes closed from the gusts and water. He didn't bother stabilizing himself, figuring that at some point he would somersault himself into the dirt.

Not knowing the difference between up or down, his plunge lengthened. He was thrust from side to side, the wind swinging him around like a toy. Lightning erupted in green right above him. The noise only partially muffled by the sound of his hands pressing against his ears. Jack wondered how long this nightmare would last.

He was abruptly held upright, the wind continuing to howl around him. Light blinked rapidly through his closed eyelids, though the rain was no longer barraging his face. The wind continued to hold him up, blasting up underneath him with more force than he could ever remember. He cracked an eye open. The rain had indeed stopped, though that wasn't what had caught Jack's attention. Walls of deep grey clouds surrounded him on all sides. The large swirling vortex of humidity spiraled endlessly upwards, pushed by the invisible wind. With his staff tucked safely in the crook of his elbow, and his hands firmly against his ears, he watched the lightning continue to strike along the cylinder. The electricity forked in the crevices of cloud formed by the intense updraft. Bringing his gaze upwards to the origin of the lightning, Jack could see a circle of clear night sky, the form bending and bowing with the movements of the cell.

Ignoring the sky, a continuous crackle and flickering of light caught his eye. The soft ambient light glimmering constantly below him, he faced downwards. He couldn't make out much, there were trees swaying in the gale and leaves fluttering all about. The light was radiating from a central point, directly below Jack. It was coming from underneath the canopy of the trees, an occasional pale yellow gleaming into his face, faceted from the odd holes in the clusters of leaves.

It was her. It must be her.

The wind tried to bring him slowly back down to Earth, but in the wake of such a strong upwards current the smooth descent was more like a jerky falling. Jack got low enough to touch the tops of the trees, and the wind released him onto a sturdy branch. He uncovered his ears, the lightning farther above him and the thunder dulled just enough to let him think. With his staff in one hand, he began to jump from branch to branch steadily.

Jack began to get worried, what with the display she put on for him, that this was not going to be a peaceful encounter. He could feel an obvious amount of turmoil within the storm she had most likely created, and he was unwilling to have it directed at him. When she had left, Jack saw guilt and pain on her face. Hopefully, it was directed at herself. Jack wanted her to feel that way. A small retribution for him. Jack unfortunately understood that when someone was hurt, they could lash out in ways they never meant to. For Jack, that would probably mean thousands of volts of electricity crawling through his veins. Adding even more to the list of uncertainties, he took into account that he had only known her for a grand total of a few hours. Most of the time was spent traveling here, though a half an hour had been spent with her directly. Her complete mood swing had been more than slightly disconcerting to Jack, and he wasn't sure how many more attitude variances she was capable of.

With those thoughts in mind, he crept downward and towards the ominous light. He tried to be silent, however the noise from the storm masked his presence well enough. Breaking through to ground level, he hopped to a low branch. The light had gotten almost too bright for his eyes, he squinted to be able to just barely make out the basic shape of a person. Their entire form was bright pale yellow.

Jack covered his eyes against the light. The person, more specifically the girl, was kneeling. Her head was pressed to the bank of a small stream. Feet folded beneath her, she was stretched against the ground, her bright arms reaching just beyond her, hands clenched into fists. Her whole body was alight in white, neon yellow marking the separation between her limbs and her torso. Crackling electricity had replaced her hair. The arcing currents zigzagged upwards and outwards from her head. Sparking tendrils of pure energy appeared and disappeared from existence, only to be replaced by another coil. Her electric hair spilled into the sky in irregular angles, providing Jack with enough reason to put her as the cause of the storm. The voltage forced itself into the atmosphere, fueling the eye of the storm above them.

Jack had been wrong about one thing, at least. The lightning was not originating from the charged top of the cell, but was instead sprouting from the girl in front of him. His mouth had somehow opened ajar while observing the manifestation of her affinity. The writhing white spectrum of lightning traveled upwards from the girl and forked and veined its way into the super cell's eye. Yet, above all the sound the wind and power created, he could still hear the paranormal resonance of the girl.

Harmonic voices and deep bass couldn't mask her skin crawling cries. If Jack looked close enough, he could see her body convulsing with breaths of air. She would breathe in deeply, then heave an anguished sound. She trembled with sorrow and effort. Jack had pity for her, he really did.

His pity was not an excuse for what she had done. In her violent sobs he could feel the echo of his despair, and for a moment he wondered whether or not to join her in her melancholic performance. She made a sudden movement, lifting her upper body from the ground. She raised her arms above and behind her. Strenuously, she flexed her torso, clenching her fists harder.

With a great roar, she slammed her fists and forearms into the silt of the bank. Jack didn't have enough time to register the blinding bang of lightning. The force threw him from the branch he had been perched upon, and he crashed onto the forest floor.

It took more than a few seconds for Jack to regain his bearings, ears ringing with the aftermath of the thunder. Slowly, he propped himself up on all fours. Jack couldn't decide on what was worse at that moment, getting hit by lightning or just being too close to it. The light that she had produced earlier seemed different. He looked to her area, watching her electric silhouette flicker. She was more quiet, the hums and voices continuing to provide an eerie aura about her. The place where the lightning had struck was now scorched and barren. Any bushes or plants that had been near the point of contact had been evaporated, simply turned to ash. Small embers spread from her fists in a star like pattern. The ground beneath her was smoking and smoldering, having endured such a massive amount of heat.

Jack stood up and decided to approach her in this small lull. Staff pointed warily at her, he stalked towards her. He pushed aside a particularly dense branch with the hook of his staff. Cautiously, he proceeded forward, aware of his unhidden presence. She sat up slowly, her cries gone for the moment. He opened his mouth, ready to make himself known.

"_Jack?"_

He stopped dead in his tracks, once again beaten to the punch line by this spirit. She slowly sat up. The movement made him aware that, similar to him, she wasn't wearing any shoes. He glanced back up to her head. Turning ever so slightly, she faced Jack. Her eyes were blazing light, an amber circle making up her pupil. They seemed to be as bright as her hair. Jack thought once more how spectral she appeared, her eyes lighting up her face like a weird nightlight. Though this nightlight was as bright as the sun.

"_Why are you here?"_ echoing against the sound of the storm, her voice resounded with the hum of power. Jack took another step forward.

"Tell me exactly what happened that day. I want to know it word for word." his voice stern and exuding a confidence that he wasn't sure he had.

"_Please!"_ she pleaded, _"It was an accident. I only wanted you both to have fun."_

"Really?" Jack added coldly, "Does it look like I'm having fun to you?" he let go of his staff with one of his hands, gesturing to the space between them. "Why didn't you come and fish me out of the water, huh? That sounds like a simple enough solution." Jack continued walking towards her, now only about ten feet away.

"_Didn't I tell you before? I couldn't!"_ her palms open in front of her in offering.

"And _why_ couldn't you?" he emphasized.

"_If I had gone into that water after you,"_ her voice rising, _"both you and your sister would have died!"_ she screamed at him, hands brought back as fists once more. Sparks shot out from her being, but not enough to actually harm Jack.

He flinched backwards.

"What do you mean, we _both_ would have died?" he furrowed his brows.

"_I mean,"_ she motioned to herself, _"that I am pure energy. If I had so much as touched that water, you both would have been electrocuted."_ Jack backtracked his thoughts.

"But you were able to touch those machines tonight without any problem."

"_Machines can absorb most rises in electrical current. People and any other living beings don't handle energy the same way." _she replied.

"My sister wasn't even near the hole where I fell, she wasn't wet." he denied.

"_Yes, she was."_ she defended, _"Any kind of moisture on her, from melted snow or ice, would have grounded her to the lake as well. Even with that ice between."_

Jack was silent, absorbing this new information. From what she had been saying, she couldn't have helped them, even if she had wanted to. So her electric current was a normal thing? Was it like the cold that Jack produced unwillingly to everything he touched? Yet, she could make herself visible, or invisible. She could change her appearance, and even show up in close range with others without shocking them. Maybe she could control her affinity enough to not shock anyone she didn't touch, but couldn't stop the current if people touched her. It sounded too dangerous to Jack. Too much of a precarious position for someone who was the spirit of inspiration, where touch could be an accidental event. Something wasn't right. It didn't add up.

"_I'm so sorry, Jack."_

He looked up at her, from staring down at the ground in thought.

"You don't owe _me_ an apology." he ground out, squaring his shoulders and setting his jaw, "You should apologize to the people who actually need it. My family."

He was done with her. Nothing was adding up, and now that the time for forgiveness had come and gone, he was ready to head home. She drew into herself, hunching her back as if she was a hollow cavern. A small groan, or sob, he didn't necessarily give enough energy to care, escaped her sad lips. The static and lightning flashed and crackled ominously. Jack shuffled his foot backwards, ready to hightail it out of there if she seemed threatening enough. She either didn't care or didn't notice, Jack supposed it was the latter, because her eyes remained luminously glazed over, staring at some point on the tree line surrounding them both.

Claps of thunder and the high pitched squealing of rampant electricity had Jack darting his eyes about. The flashes of light intensified to the point where his brain felt sluggish and confused. He squinted his eyes in thought and continued backwards, his hands anxiously squeezing his staff.

In one movement her head whipped up, her eyes meeting his in a flash. The electricity calmed down, and that unpleasant feeling of static electricity stopped. Her eye brows were pulled down angrily. She stared him down, and he returned the glare.

"_How dare you."_ she started, mouth frowning, _"For hundreds of years I've dealt with the burden of so many lives I've unwillingly taken."_ she got to one knee from her crouched position. Jack consciously raised his staff, ready to cool her off.

"_I used to just blame the Fates, all of this death that surrounded me wasn't my fault."_ Jack didn't like where this was going, after the numbing sounds that had accompanied her distraught mind, the small silence seemed too great. He was reminded of the calm before the storm, and that set his teeth on edge.

"_I was fine and dandy with that assumption, that is, until I got entangled with you."_ now standing, she pointed her burning bright finger at him, _"I got emotionally involved, and your death broke me, Jack!"_ she yelled the last part at him, voice ringing with thunder far above them.

"_I don't want to do this anymore! These deaths are my fault!"_ her arms open and palms facing the sky, _"Why else do you think I show myself to no one?! I don't want to hurt anyone, and if that means being alone for the rest of my existence-"_ the wind picked up and began creating a great whirlwind around her. The bright static stitched through the currents sewing them together. Jack realized that this was a wind that he had no control of. Her hands seemed like powerful magnets, all of the air, forest debri, and electricity tunneled from them. When she started raising her arms, Jack knew it was time to think fast. She restarted her monologue.

"_-then so be it!" _with her arms fully in the air, Jack pulled back his staff with his right hand. She was busy gathering her energy for the moment, eyes glaring intently at him. He then thrust his staff forward, before she had enough time to attack him first, as she was so obviously about to do. Swinging the rest of his body with the leverage needed to stay on his feet, his staff produced a light that for the moment was as bright as the lightning she wielded. It shot out from the tip of the crook of the staff, spreading about in the air like fireworks.

Just a split second after he had produced his attack, she pushed the great amount of wind his way. He had just enough time to see his blast connect with her straight on, in her chest. She hadn't moved or tried to avoid the attack, and Jack vaguely thought that she wasn't a very good combat expert. He ducked down, away from the sparking cloud she'd torpedoed his way. On all fours, he was thrown backwards by a sonic boom. The bullet had been a ball of extremely compressed air, a ticking time bomb for her opponent. It had gone off with an implanted spark of lightning, creating a macro-burst of hurricane force winds and tendrils of electricity. In mid air, Jack was being tasered from all sides, the feeling of electricity wreaking havoc through his veins making him convulse and shudder. His short flight was ended by the sturdy trunk of a tree.

His head snapped back and made contact with the hard wood. The stars that swam in his vision was either caused by the electricity or the concussion he now had to deal with. Or both. His body slumped the rest of the way back down to the ground. Jack's muscles weren't responding the way he wanted, so there was nothing to break the drop. He landed face first into the dirt. He twitched interspersingly, the volts taking their time to slowly filter from his body to discharge into the ground. His head twitched in a way that made him face the area they had fought. The area was dark, with residual amounts of smoke and embers filling the space.

There was no more lightning or wind in the air. Everything was calm, awaiting the next noise. A small amount of glowing lit up the forest floor a good 10 meters away. He could just barely see the girls body lying there, emitting a tiny shower of static. Steam and water vapor slithered around her torso. His eyes beginning to close, he noticed that she looked... different.

He didn't regret throwing the ice bolt at her, it was for his own protection. Even if it hadn't protected him much from the already formed attack. The moss covered floor was a good resting place for Jack, whose mind had swapped to telling him to sleep. One small nap wouldn't hurt, he thought. The twitching had stopped, and Jack didn't want to think anymore. Eyes fully closed, he inhaled the scent of the deep forest, then passed out.

_**Hi guys! Sorry this took so long to publish, I've had to re-write a bunch of my essays for my required English class, and I couldn't really stomach the thought of more typing. The good news is that I'm finally finished my first semester! I'll be packing my stuff up to head back home in a few days, then I'll really start writing hard.**_

_**I really enjoyed describing all the details of the chapter. It looks so cool in my head!**_

_**I just wanted to thank those of you who took the time to read this! Writing this story has me so GODDAMN PUMPED! I also really enjoyed getting feedback from people, and I would really like more!**_

_**~itorthedinosaur**_


	5. Chapter 5

_**Hi guys! I'm sorry this chapter took longer than usual, I've moved back home for winter break and started working again at the Tea Shop.**_

_**Things are even more hectic and when I come home its a different type of tired, the kind of tired where your brain just doesn't work anymore. I'm going to be focussing on some hardcore plot planning and character development, so its going to take a while for me to get through the next few chapters. **_

_**Comment, suggestions, and critiques are encouraged!**_

_**DISCLAIMER: I don't own Rise of The Guardians.**_

Pastel colored light filtered through Jack's eyelids. The soft moss beneath him beckoned for him to sleep longer, cushioning his body and giving him a warmth he hadn't felt in a long time. He gradually became aware of his senses, flitting back and forth from a light sleep to being awake. His legs were tangled together in some kind of stop motion dance, and his arms were wrapped soundly around his chest. For some reason, the second that Jack knew he was awake, he was filled with vivacity. His heart was beating strongly and his extremities felt restless. He shifted with this newfound awakeness, and he felt a soft layer of snow fall off of him. He opened his eyes and found himself sleeping in a fine sheet of flurries.

The mossy forest floor was alight with the first morning rays, the lively green a stark contrast from the snow. Half of his face was covered with the plush powder, so he was currently relying on the sight of his other eye. No longer sleepy, he pushed himself steadily off the ground. Getting himself into a sitting position, he dusted himself off lightly. The small area where he had been sleeping housed a tall evergreen tree to his back, and moss spotted with grass. His imprint on the floor was surprisingly green and not frosted over. Jack didn't know what to think about that.

Instead of his body being sore and tired like he thought it would be, he felt strangely alive. As if his body was _too_ alright. Similar to waking up after the most perfect cat nap, though it had been hundreds of years since his last. His breath was coming out in light clouds, the temperature colder than the air around him. Vapor slithered off of him that hadn't been there before. Jack realized that this is what must happen when he sleeps in a warmer climate than what he's used to. The air, besides the vapor, was crystal clear. It let the soft shades of pink trickle through the tree tops.

Squeezing and relaxing his hands, he tested out his muscles. They seemed to be doing fine after that nice electric shock he had gotten. Judging by the sun, those events had occurred just a few measly hours before. His mind replaying the events, he sat flexing the rest of his body. He arched his back and brought his hands up high, working out whatever kinks he thought he might have. There were none, but the movements seemed to help him work the rest of the energy he had to his mind.

His head subconsciously angled itself to find the place where the girl lay. It didn't take long, but as he'd noted before, there was something off about her. Her clothes didn't look the same as they had. Finding his shepherd's staff in between him and the tree, he grabbed it and hopped to his feet. He wound his way silently around the sparse underbrush, his feet making little to no noise on the cushioning moss. The feeling of the plants between his toes was exhilarating. He couldn't remember the last time he had ever felt so alive. Every sight, every sound, and every touch was somehow new and incredible to his senses. He paused for a moment to take a deep refreshing breath and listen to the sound of early morning birds and forest creatures awakening from their sleep. The feeling of peace latched onto him from his surroundings. Lost in his senses, Jack thought that maybe he should sleep in places like this more often.

Losing his train of thought, he continued through the underbrush. Pushing away the last branch, he noticed that she was situated within a circle of completely open space. The heat from the lightning must have burnt away the large section of bushes and grass, he figured.

To his surprise, once he stepped inside the ring, his foot fell on soft moss. He looked down again. Just inside a ring of ash, the rest of the circle like space was filled with newly grown plants and moss. Jack was fairly confused. Lightning normally killed living things, so what was all of this? He kneeled down to touch the plants, just to make sure it wasn't a hoax. Running his fingers lightly through the greenery and pausing to study a small leaf, he realized that, yes, everything was real.

Something shifted in front of him, and he brought his attention back to the girl. Greenery cushioned around her form so dense, that from his kneeling height, he couldn't see through it to her. The grass and leaves pressed themselves to her body, creating a small barrier between her and the space surrounding her. He stood up slowly, wary about the thought of her being awake.

Finally able to see her completely, Jack raised his eyebrows. He had indeed been right about sensing that something was different about her, and in the early morning light, he wondered if the better question to be asked was what was the _same_ about her.

Jack pondered for a moment, finding a way to look at this event. It was as if her whole body had been bleached. Either someone had come in during the night and given her a chemical bath, or they had put her in the sun for a lifetime. Everything about her was lighter. Her shirt, which had been black before, was now a very pastel purplish grey color that Jack couldn't name. It was white and sparsely torn around the edges. Her high waisted pants, which were some color before that Jack hadn't really had time to notice, were some kind of dirty pale orange. It was almost flesh colored, but more of a warm hue. Now, Jack himself didn't know much about women's fashion or fashion in general for that matter, but he did know that there was something not very pleasing about the colors together.

He looked to her face and he vaguely wondered if this _was_ a different person. From the night before, he could have sworn that she had curly brown hair. Instead of coming upon that familiar sight, he noticed that her hair was _way_ lighter. Not just lighter in the color scale. It wasn't red, or orange, or yellow, or even a blonde.

It was _white_. Not really a snow type of white, but a greyish purplish cloud type of white.

He began to notice the similarities from the DJ before, which was basically the same curly hair, same body type, and same skin color. Jack believed that was where the similarities ended.

She was quiet and unmoving. He had thought she had moved earlier, but judging from the small protective layer of vines snaking their way around her body, she must not have moved in a long while. The only person Jack could remember hitting directly with his arctic blast was Pitch, but there had been no damage done to him. He had never tested it out on anyone else, and Jack thought that maybe he should have studied the effects of his staff more thoroughly. The effect it seemed to have on her had been immediate, the fight ending with both of them out cold.

Her tattoos were white, but not glowing. Maybe she was dead, Jack thought dryly. He had never killed anyone on purpose before, though winter and the cold killed people yearly. He knelt down by her head, carefully avoiding touching her or her hair, remembering the power she wielded last night. About ready to check her pulse, he looked closer at her white tattoos. A fine layer of frost covered her exposed skin, making her shimmer very slightly. Jack figured that she definitely hadn't moved in a while if the frost was still intact on her body. He was slightly nervous. A root of guilt made itself known in him as the possibility of her death became more likely. All at once, Jack didn't want to check her pulse. If she was alive, he would most likely get shocked. If she was dead...

Jack didn't want the guilt of having killed someone. But she was the enemy, he reasoned with himself. She was another Pitch Black, ruining the lives of people and spirits alike.

Though, with all of the evil that Pitch had done, they had let him live. They hadn't killed Pitch, either because it was impossible to kill him, or because of the pity they had all felt for him. He was just a spirit who wanted to be believed in, though he had gone about it the wrong way. North had explained to him once that not everything was black and white, that there was an entire world filled with different tones of grey. He had told Jack that every year when he did his Naughty or Nice list, he was reminded of the various goods and evils of the world, and he took that into consideration when creating the list. Jack could feel his stomach rising into his throat. Not even with the most evil being the Guardians faced had they sentenced him to death.

How was Jack supposed to know what kind of effect his staff had on other spirits? It's not as if anyone was biting at the bit to be the guinea pig for his affinity. Jack himself hadn't even thought about it much in three years, barely finding enough time to think between splitting his time with Jamie and the Guardians.

Jack didn't want to know if she was dead. But he _had_ to know if she was alive. He decided to maybe start small, and look for any sign of breathing. Jack's heart was palpitating hard when after 30 seconds of trying to see her chest rise up and down, he saw nothing. Maybe she was breathing too lightly to see for himself, he reasoned hastily. He glanced over at her outstretched arm resting limply next to him. He grabbed her wrist and checked for her pulse. To his horror, he couldn't feel any pulse. No, no, no, no, he repeated in his head, _I didn't mean to kill her_.

He was so wrapped up that he didn't notice that there had been no electric shock, or static, or anything. Her powers were nonexistent.

Making up excuses, he reached over her to put his palm against her neck. With his index and middle finger, he felt for the main artery next to her throat.

To his great relief, he could feel a steady, but slow, heartbeat. He sat still for a moment and almost voiced just how relieved he was, then the thought of being quiet once again popped into his mind.

He hadn't killed anybody. That didn't mean that he all of a sudden liked her or forgave her for what had been done to him, but now he had peace of mind. Her light, deep breaths brushed the skin on his fingers.

He took his hand away, realizing that the coldness of him was doing her no favors. He had to get out of here. There was no way in hell that he was going to be present when she awoke.

Calmly, he rose from his crouched stance, still watching her form. He couldn't help but feel a connection with the girl lying before him. Jack thought that maybe that had to do with her new hair color, though he also doubted that superficial reason. It was something that he didn't want to think about at the moment. Especially since he had to make another tough decision.

Jack's guilt hadn't ceased yet, and he was beginning to channel it towards whether or not he should leave the girl here _alone_. She was still clearly out cold, and had no way to defend herself.

He stared at her limbs, the way they were defenselessly splayed in between the green. She wasn't a mortal, so he had no worries about any wandering humans taking advantage of her. No, what he was more worried about were the immortals. He doubted that any would find her in this wilderness, and Pitch was chained by his own nightmares, but it wasn't impossible.


End file.
